None of my friends don't have Facebook accounts. Op-eds and studies can highlight our decreased enthusiasm for Facebook 'til the cows come home, but it doesn't change the fact that we are chained to the beast. Voluntarily, of course.
The Edinburgh Fringe is a tough beast and you do whatever you can to get through it. But it's really the worst place to see comedians; everyone is so tense and nervous because it feels like Ofsted inspectors are out there.
We worked out a lot of bugs and figured out who was working and who wasn't and how this beast functions. It was a lot bigger than we actually thought, and now we have a well-run ship where it feels I can actually have time to imagine and not just stress out about everything.
Living next to you is in some ways like sleeping with an elephant. No matter how friendly and even-tempered is the beast, if I can call it that, one is affected by every twitch and grunt.
This beast went to the well and drank, and the noise was in the beast's belly like unto the questing of thirty couple hounds, but all the while the beast drank there was no noise in the beast's belly.
It is the lash of hunger which compels the poor man to submit. In order to live he must sell - 'voluntarily' sell - himself every day and hour to the 'beast of property.'
Sure, some tracks are not as good as others, but we've written some really strong, classic stuff, like 'The Number of the Beast,' 'Hallowed Be Thy Name,' and 'Rime of the Ancient Mariner.'
I'm always up for collaborating with brands and people who actually design, but doing your own line is a whole other beast. I don't think I could deal with the criticism.
It was a natural process, because when we go to the ring we are human beings, but once you feel the punches and the competition that's when the beast comes out and takes hold of us.
I think social media is an interesting beast - you can't get too caught up in it. People can get caught up in it sometimes, but I think it's important to live in the present and not on the computer screen.
My dad was a regular dad. At home, he wasn't Bonzo the animal. He was a very intellectual, quiet chap - not the beast we all know.